The Trouble with Gambling
by Otaku no Hime
Summary: Havoc organizes a pool to see what kind of date the colonel will bring to the annual Christmas party, but Hawkeye is the one who wins in the end. EdxRoy


**Disclaimer**: I do not own Full Metal Alchemist so no, you cannot sue me if you are offended. Besides, I have no money on me after some last minute Christmas shopping.

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_One week before Christmas…_

It was nearly time for the annual office party. And like every year, the office-or really, Havoc-would stupidly start a pool to see what kind of girl the colonel would most likely bring as his date to the party, just because they had nothing else better to do. Well, at least that was what Hawkeye thought. But her perception was not that far from the truth.

It had been five long years after all.

"Come on, Fuery! It's not like he's going to _know_." pleaded Havoc, oblivious to the fact that a certain First Lieutenant was standing close by with a rather annoyed look on her face.

Fuery shot him an annoyed glare, "It's not right Havoc! This is an invasion of privacy!" he hissed.

"Well, it's not like the colonel actually tries to _keep_ his dates a secret now is it?" They continued their argument down the hallway until they reached the corner and were soon safely out of reach from the First Lieutenant's dangerous aim-for now.

She scoffed and muttered to herself about the idiots she has to deal with daily. And speaking of idiots, a clatter of platform shoes echoed from the stairs and soon, out popped a disgruntled looking golden eyed blond closely followed by a large suit of armor.

He began to shout out things like, "DAMN THAT STUPID BASTARD FOR A COLONEL!", "I'M GOING TO KILL THAT PIECE OF SHIT!" and "HE KNEW! HE _KNEW_ HOW CRAPPY THAT MISSION WAS! WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON HIM…"

"Good morning Edward, Alphonse." greeted Hawkeye automatically. The boy merely huffed in response before continuing his rant. The suit of armor made a hurried bow before chasing after his older brother again yelling for him to not murder the colonel or else he would regret it.

_Four days before Christmas…_

"How about a twenty that it's a brunette?"

"That little? Oh come on."

"Okay, okay, how about a fifty? My entire monthly salary is riding on this!"

"Second Lieutenant, if you are not too busy, I would like for you to grab some paperwork for the colonel from the mailroom."

The two men yelped in shock and whirled around to face a displeased Riza Hawkeye. Suddenly, it seemed as if the room temperature plummeted to a negative twenty-three. Denny Brosh promptly raised both his hands in surrender, "I swear to you that I had nothing to do with this." he blurted out before dashing back to his cubicle.

Hawkeye sent a nasty glare at the smoke addict, who incidentally began to light a cigarette as if nothing happened. "What?" he inquired innocently. The sound of a gun being pulled out from its holster and being loaded stopped him short.

The copper eyed women scoffed, "One more word about this pool and you're dead." She sent him another glare for good measure before stomping down to the mailroom herself to pick up another pile of paperwork.

When she returned, she noticed that many of her colleagues were staring intently at the door of Mustang's office. A flustered Ed soon came out and, to the surprise of every single person in the room, instead of slamming the door shut like he normally would, closed it softly. But not before a certain dark haired colonel cheerfully called out from inside, "Do consider my offer, Full Metal."

"Like hell I would!" yelled the short alchemist, blushing even more. He ambled in the direction of the stairway with his head down, and immediately bumped into a surprised Hawkeye.

"Hello Edward." she said, bending down to pick up a couple fallen pieces of paper.

A mumble of apology was all she received in response this time.

_Christmas Eve…_

The entire office was bustling with activity, especially at Havoc's cubicle. "Alright, if any of you did not place a bet, don't panic. It's fifty for a brunette, sixty for blond, twenty for redhead ("Ten, you greedy bastard, ten!"), and how about an extra fifteen for black hair?" suggested Havoc.

Breda simply shook his head and grinned, "I'm sticking to sixty for blond. He's got a soft spot for them, Mustang." A ripple of agreement followed.

It was then that Hawkeye finally decided to give up on her personal quest to decapitate a majority of her colleagues' heads by the time of the office party. She could always find a way to take the winnings for herself.

A crash echoed from Roy Mustang's office and all the hustling in headquarters simultaneously came to a halt.

"What the hell are you trying to pull?" Hawkeye blinked. If she wasn't mistaken, that sounded as if Edward was…but it couldn't possibly be true.

"I'm not trying to-"

"Shut up!" Hawkeye blinked again. Oh yeah, definitely crying. "You think I never noticed all those bimbos you bring every year?" A pause followed. Then a broken sob, "…don't want…get hurt…"

Now everyone in the vicinity strained their ears to listen. Even Hawkeye found herself subconsciously shifting closer to the door.

"Oh Ed…"

It was a long time before the door reopened and a smiling Edward walked out, hardly noticing the number of stares he was receiving. Roy's head popped out from the door-a brief _genuine_ smile on his face for once, as opposed to the usual sly smirks he wears-but sent a deathly glare at anyone lingering longer than they should.

"Sir?" spoke up Hawkeye before the colonel could shut his door and bury himself in paperwork-or rather burn the paperwork. She really should have a word with him about that.

"Yes, First Lieutenant?" he asked.

Hawkeye paused, not sure if she was entering forbidden territory or not, but finally her curiosity got the better of her. "Exactly what was that about?"

Another-somewhat devious-smile tugged at the Flame Alchemist's lips. "You'll see tomorrow night First Lieutenant Hawkeye. Have a good day."

_Christmas night…_

"Ah, how about a last minute ten for a redhead?"

Havoc looked up and smirked. "Why Fuery, I thought that you didn't want to participate. What changed your mind?" Snickers rose from a few other occupants of the table.

Fuery blushed, "Yeah, well-oh shut up Brosh." He glanced over to the doorway, his wistful eyes lingering on the mistletoe that Havoc strategically hung to keep from missing who the colonel's date was. "The colonel sure is late isn't he?" said Fuery.

Havoc nodded, "I would've thought he'd be here by now. You know how he just _loves_ to show off how ridiculously handsome he is for a thirty year old." He did an imitation of the colonel striding through the door with some pretty face latched onto his arm, earning himself applause and laughter from all the participants of his pool.

"I'd like to place a bet."

All the men swiveled in their spots and nearly wet their pants at the sight of their First Lieutenant wearing her hair _down_ and an admittedly beautiful pink spaghetti strap dress. "You-You would?" stuttered Havoc. Something was up, he knew, but what?

Hawkeye smirked, "Yes, TWO months of ALL your salaries."

Many jaws dropped to the table. Fuery was the first to recover, "Uh, okay, what would you like to bet on?" Havoc quickly sent him a glare to stop him, but he was too late. Hawkeye, if possible, actually beamed at him.

"How about blond hair, golden eyes, and a height too short for his age?" she said. Riza Hawkeye abruptly turned away, the smirk on her face so wide it would have made all the male personnel at headquarters run for their lives the moment they set eyes on it.

Before any of the men at the table could comprehend what their First Lieutenant just said, a series of gasps rose near the entrance. Fuery squinted to see. "So, what is it?" asked Havoc nervously.

Fuery turned around to face him and gulped, "I don't suppose it's too late to back out now, is it?"

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**Author's Note**: I had way too much fun with this, honestly. Please review! Constructive criticisms are greatly encouraged! 


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